Disclaimer: I don't own The Walking Dead
I'm in the mood for fics referencing Rick's choice on Negan's fate, and since I didn't find any, I created my own. I definitely was interested in seeing more of what happened to Negan right after he went down. For this fic, I liked the idea of Rick feeling uncertain about making the call to let him live and needing to work through it again in his head.
Rick glanced at the blood dripping from his hand as if in awe of the redness. He'd been coated in blood so many times he'd become used to it, yet this time it fazed him. He knew it shouldn't have. He had originally set out to kill this man by any means necessary. If that meant slitting his throat, then so be it. It certainly wasn't the most gruesome method he could have used. If he wanted to be brutal about it, he could have snatched up his fallen bat and given him the same treatment he had given his friends. Negan would have been helpless to do anything besides watch as he brought it down.
But Rick hadn't even thought to do such a thing. A quick cut to the throat and he was down. It was good enough. He was tired of this war; tired of missing his chances to kill the bastard, therefore it didn't matter how he went out.
Then his son's name came out of the man's mouth. He'd had the audacity to accuse his son of knowing nothing before he gave in and dropped.
That's what had done it. The connection Carl had on this situation was part of the reason he was fazed. The other reason was himself.
He wasn't sure if he had been himself, truly himself, in that moment. People had to do things, terrible things to survive now, and he had long ago left his old self behind so he could keep his family alive. His son had wanted a better future for him, and along with that, he had wanted his old self back for that future.
He'd said his peace to the watching crowd, yet as Maggie cried in Michonne's arms, he couldn't help wondering if he had made a mistake after all.
He turned back to the tree and watched Jerry and Siddiq converse. Siddiq was putting pressure on Negan's neck. Both his hands were stained in red.
Rick had eyes on Negan as he walked over; the blood from his hand continued to drip.
The man already appeared dead considering the fact that his eyes were closed and he wasn't moving. He almost looked peaceful and normal, unlike the psychotic figure he was used to.
"Will he live?" he asked offhandedly. Part of him was hoping so for Carl's sake, but another part desperately wanted Siddiq to say "No."
Siddiq seemed grave, and it made him wonder if it was because he disagreed with the decision to spare the man.
"He has a good chance," came the quick diagnosis. "We gotta stitch him up soon, or else."
Rick gave a nod just as Michonne walked up.
"We gotta bring the car around and take him to-"
"He's not going to Hilltop!" Maggie yelled as she stormed her way over. Concerned that she might launch into Negan, Carol took over in holding her back along with Jesus.
Rick saw the hurt in her eyes up close and immediately felt her pain. His stomach turned as if in shame of defending Negan's chance to live. In his mind's eye he saw Glenn looking scared. He saw him as his head was being crushed. He couldn't even meet her eyes, and instead turned to his bloodied hand. She deserved to have closure, and if he couldn't offer it through Negan's death, then he had to give her something else.
"Alright. We'll take him to Alexandria. Some of the buildings still stood. Maybe the infirmary was one of them."
"I hope not," Maggie snarled. She tossed one quick look at Negan, before shooting the same glare at Rick before she turned on her heel.
Rick dropped his head as the guilt increased, and then he felt the warm touch of Michonne's hand on his arm.
"I'll come with you," she offered.
"And I'll get the car," said Jerry as he got to his feet.
Rick turned to his fellow soldiers and the surrendering Saviors.
"My people," he told Michonne. "They'll need me to lead them back. Figure out where to go from here."
"I think they have it covered," she replied. She turned her gaze to Negan, and it was impossible to tell what she thought of his choice. "Right now, I think you should start with him."
He gave a nod. If he was going to stand by his decision, he had to see it through.
While they waited for Jerry to bring the car around, Rick couldn't help noticing how peaceful everything seemed now, and such a setting gave him some hope. Still, there was some doubt. He looked at Michonne as if he had been a small child that had done something bad.
"Do you think, I made the right choice? Maybe this is a mistake."
She took his un-bloodied hand in hers and closed her fingers around it.
"I think Carl would have been proud of how you handled that. There has to be more, than just killing."
"How do you feel?"
She sighed and glanced down at their one-time enemy.
"I don't know what I feel, other than relief that it's over. I wouldn't have a problem if he was dead, but we can still have justice another way."
Rick hoped it would be so.
Once Jerry returned with the car, he and Rick carefully lifted Negan's body off the ground. Siddiq's red hand remained sealed to his neck as they maneuvered him into the backseat. Rick's eyes dropped to his face, and suddenly he was feeling angry at what he'd done; suddenly he just wanted to pick up that piece of glass again and jab it into his throat.
"Are you alright?" Siddiq asked as he looked at him, concern etched all over his face.
No, he wasn't alright.
"I'm fine."
As luck would have it, the infirmary still stood. While driving up to it, Rick caught sight of Morgan's jail not too far away. It too had survived the onslaught.
He thought back to the day when he discovered that Morgan had built it as he waited outside the infirmary. He had simply asked him "Why", and Morgan had simply told him it was an alternative way to handle things. He'd thought it was absurd then, but now it felt like the one true means to ending more loss. At the least, it would spare his people that hollow feeling that came with too many human kills.
"The people might have listened to me, when I told them why I spared him," he told Michonne who was leaning against the pillar. His eyes drifted to his bloody right hand once more. He had not bothered to wash away the red that had dripped all the way from the car to the porch. "But that doesn't mean they agree. What if we can't bring Carl's dream to life?"
"All we can do is try Rick. We have to at least."
"I know," he agreed. "But if my choice divides us, then we're right back to where we started."
She had no answer for that, which told him it was a current concern on her mind. Naturally Maggie was angry, and he knew Daryl and Rosita had to be as well. The question was how many more people believed he was wrong, and in the end how would it affect what he wanted to build?
The door opened and Jerry popped his head out.
"Siddiq's all done."
Rick rose to his feet.
"How'd it go?"
Jerry gave something of a relieved smile.
"He lives dude."
He held the door open, letting Rick and Michonne head inside.
Negan was lying on the bed, still unconscious. Rick took a glimpse of his neck and saw the nice stitch work over the red of the skin. Siddiq walked up with a roll of gauze, ready to work it around the wound. Wordlessly, Rick came up and lifted Negan forward so their new doctor could properly wrap it.
His thoughts flashed to the moment he was on his knees, waiting for the man to finish off one of them. The anger was back, and so was some of the fear.
"Rick."
He came out of it at Michonne's touch and realized his fingernails were digging sharply into Negan's shoulders. On top of that, he realized his right hand was still stained. The redness had gotten onto Negan's shirt. He supposed it was fitting, considering the trail of blood the man had created up to this point.
"Don't worry about it," Siddiq muttered.
Rick looked down at Negan. In that instant, his heart felt everything that the man had made him feel in the past. It would be so easy just to end the misery by snatching up a scalpel and ripping up that lovely stitch work.
Oddly enough, the longer he looked into his face, the more Carl surfaced to his mind.
"Damn it," he muttered.
He turned away and left the room before he went back on his promise.
"Hope this is worth it."
Rick stared through the bars at the first and hopefully only prisoner of the cell. Negan just sat there grinning at him from his cot.
"Would you rather I have killed you?" Rick asked.
He narrowed his eyes before continuing.
"Carl's idea of the future. I don't see it happening Rick," he spat.
"That's because you're in here. When the time's right, I'm going to take you out to see it. Then you'll know you were wrong. Your ways were wrong. Your idea of saving people was wrong. We're building something out there. A real life, just like Carl wanted."
Negan didn't say anything, but Rick could tell he was still skeptical.
"You don't have to believe it now," Rick continued, "but the least you could do is thank me."
"For what?"
"For allowing you to live." He glanced down at his right hand. It had long since been washed of the blood, but he would never forget it had been there. "I wondered afterwards if it was a mistake. Now, I don't believe it was. You're paying for what you've done. You get to remember everything you've done everyday instead of lying in the dirt. And best of all, people won't forget the destruction you caused, and the price that comes for anyone attempting to walk down that path again."
Rick turned on his heels, leaving Negan to stew in his words.
There were some days when the man just made him want to kill him, but for the most part it was easier not to. The weight that came from constant bloodshed had lifted. Life felt like life where people were working together to create.
As he stepped out of the cell, he turned to the clear blue sky. He had fallen on quite the bloody trail to get to this point, and he hoped his son was happy with the result.